


The Future of Sokovia

by Insomnia_in_Portland



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Darcy Has Royal Lineage, Darcy's Father Isn't Tony Stark, Gen, Letters, Made-up History, Read Ch. 3 for Clues, Sokovian Royalty, secret family ties, surprise crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_in_Portland/pseuds/Insomnia_in_Portland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before it became a failed state, the nation of Sokovia had once been a thriving kingdom.  Now recovering from Ultron's presence and the Avengers' heroics, the nation seeks long-denied stability.  For some, stability means one thing.</p>
<p>Darcy Lewis has had to put up with a variety of strange, often life-threatening things in the last few years.  She never imagined that her familial ties to Sokovia would be what upends her life completely.</p>
<p>A letter proves her wrong.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(STORY IS DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE)</strong>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Most Esteemed Lady

**Author's Note:**

> Hello.
> 
> This is just a little bit of nonsense. I'm using it as a way to get back into the swing of letter-writing. I've been eyeballing my Hobbit fic for completion, so I figured getting back into the swing of things would be good.
> 
> Also, have fun trying to guess who Darcy's father is.

_To Lady Darcy Anya Lewis_  
Stark In., Tower  
New York, NY  
August 4, 20xx 

_Most Esteemed Lady,_

_My name is Josef Zuraw. I write to you with the hope that you will not cast aside this letter in the belief it is false. I am aware that you are an associate of a Dr. Jane Foster and a Dr. Erik Selvig. Both are close to Prince Thor of Asgard. As a result, I have done my best to disguise the appearance of this letter, foregoing the traditional diplomatic seals and envelope in favor of something less conspicuous. I pray this will pass unnoticed by the Tower’s censors. Our inside woman tells us Mr. Stark has increased security on all levels ever since he was outed as the fault behind Sokovia’s destruction. She has assured me this letter will get to you. It is on Sokovia that I write to you. I hear you are well-versed in world history, so I hope what I say will be familiar to you._

_The war-torn land the world knew as Sokovia never used to be such a place. It never used to be ripped apart by war, famine, and a revolving door of dictators. Sokovia used to be a good, prosperous place, headed by the monarchy. Beginning in 1345 with Prince Sigmund, the royals of Sokovia kept the land and its people safe from invasion and conquest. It was through a combination of luck, diplomatic skill, and geography that Sokovia was kept safe. My family was one of several who worked for the royals as servants and guards, beginning in 1774, under King Klaus II. My grandparents were the last two to work officially for them. My grandfather was a courier for Prince Heinrich, nephew to Prince Hermann. My grandmother was a nanny to Lady Olga’s two daughters._

_World War II saw the end of Sokovia’s monarchy. It began in 1942 with King Kjartan’s assassination. He had to deal with the fallout of his brother’s policies towards the refugees who entered Sokovia during World War I. Kassian treated them as a disease, denying them even the most basic of humanities. Seeds of anger and discontent were planted, especially among the politically volatile. Kjartan tried to make up for his brother’s neglect, but it made things worse. The refugees and their descendants were angry and covetous. They were a ready audience for the Sokovians who wished to be rid of the monarchy. They were organized into a loose army of rabble-rousers that started to cause trouble in the country. Unfortunately, Kjartan’s attempts to keep peace only enflamed their anger. We know that an extremist decided to bloody his cause by murdering the king. It was a foolish mistake that doomed Sokovia._

_The rightful heir to the throne was Kassian’s son, Nicholas. The boy was only 6. Queen Tatiana was made regent, but her grief made her weak against the rise of Gen. Arnov. Arnov had served the crown faithfully, but ambition won out over logic. He wanted to be the ruler, not the servant. Kjartan’s death opened the door. On September 6, 1943, Arnov led a military coup that brought about dictatorship. Tatiana and dozens of loyal guards and servants fled. Sadly, few of the children escaped. Between Kassian and Kjartan, there were 15 children. Only four escaped with Tatiana._

_Hundreds of Sokovians opted to flee. My family was one of them. Two of my mother’s brothers were killed by Arnov loyalists. My father was briefly detained at the stables with several others. He managed to escape with only a mangled hand. Arnov took control of Sokovia. He fed those who remained sweet poison, telling them their lives would be bettered by his rule. Oh, how they paid for believing him. Arnov tightened the borders in 1946, but not before hundreds more escaped. He was the first of many strongmen who drove Sokovia into the ground._

_Those who fled found safety around the world. They established themselves in their new homelands, believing Sokovia was lost to them. Yet they did something that kept that little seed of hope alive. They reminded their children of what Sokovia was. What it really was, not what it became. They told stories of the monarchy, the heroes, and all the wonderful things Sokovia once had. Those stories have remained with us, the heirs of the displaced._

_Unbeknownst to the world, there is a group devoted to seeing Sokovia restored. I am a researcher with this group. We number only 700. Age is primarily why there are so few of us left. The council overseeing the group is stationed in Venice, Italy. They have assisted the many resistance and democratic movements that have sprung up during Sokovia’s post-war years. They supply anything that is needed, from guns to money. They aid refugees of every stripe. Their work has been magnified by the destruction caused by Mr. Stark and the political wrangling over what to do with Sokovia’s remains._

_There is another reason why there are so few of us. Many of our members left thanks to the council’s indecision over one key issue. Since its inception in 1956, it has never agreed on what a free Sokovia’s government would be. Ideas have bounced between democracy, acquiescing to the dictators, and backing a sympathetic moderate. Yet the death of Sokovia has forced them to finally analyze the problem properly. As a result, the council has agreed on the possibility no one thought of. They have agreed to the restoration of the monarchy._

_We researchers have studied the various royal and noble trees for decades. We have meticulously documented the descendants from every king, queen, mistress, lover, prince, princess, etc. As a result, we have complied near-complete family trees. The council’s decision to back the monarchy’s return has forced us to study these trees. We analyzed each to see which had the strongest claim to the throne. The winner was Kjartan’s youngest surviving son, Dmitri Anton._

_Dmitri Anton happens to be your grandfather, your Ladyship._

_If you doubt my words, know that we know who your father is. Your parents may have concealed the truth, but we know. We know that your father is one of the world’s most wanted criminals. He has been forced to hide from authorities. By rights, the line of succession would go to him. As we have no clue how to contact him, we are forced to pass over him as a claimant. As his only known child, you are next in line for the throne._

_We know that you are young and untested by the world, but you are our hope for renewal. I will not ask you to accept your proper birthright right now. It would be foolish of me to do so. I know you will want to verify the truth of my words. All I ask is that you consider what I have told you. I will be contacting you in the future._

_Most Respectfully,_  
Josef Zuraw  
Co-Chair of Research and Genealogical Studies 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Darcy reread the letter. Not once, not twice, but multiple times, trying to force her brain to acknowledge the words before her.

Oh, she knew the secrets of her family tree all too well. It was something her mother made sure she knew once she was old enough to understand the ramifications of being her father’s daughter. She obeyed her mother’s pleas to never mention anything about it to anyone. It was a secret she kept locked away in the deepest recesses of her heart. She was always grateful SHIELD never learned about her true birth certificate. She had no desire to explain about her father or her family tree.

She tossed the letter aside with a sigh. It was a time-bomb that needed to be dealt with immediately. There was no way she could leave it around. If Jane or Thor found it, there would be hell to pay. She knew exactly how she would be treated. SHIELD would try to use her as a pawn. Tony would splash her face all over the media. Her head hurt just imagining the fallout.

No, she needed to deal with this and she knew what that meant. She was going to have to write to her father. Despite being a global fugitive, he was always good about keeping his eye on her. He still sent her messages, letting her know how he was and that he thought about her. His last message told her he was somewhere in India, hiding at an old family estate. His contact was a jeweler in Mumbai. As he had not sent her anything else, she assumed he was still in India. All she could hope for now was that he would get her letter. Provided she could sneak it out without raising an alarm.


	2. Dear Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I was quite surprised by how liked this was. After some additional thinking, it looks like this may go on for a bit. I have no clue how long this will be now. All I can say is you guys will get a coronation.
> 
> Anyway, onward with the nonsense!

_August 29th, 20xx_

_Dear Dad,_

_I really hope you get this. I really do. Since you never sent me another message, I’m just assuming you’re still in India. I hope this contact of yours is as good as you say. Also, I’m really sorry for sending this so late. I had this all ready to go, but the universe decided to be a bitch and make things difficult. I have a really good reason to write and I hope you get this because I’m still freaking the fuck out._

_Not too long ago, I got a letter from some address in Norway. Let’s be clear: I know no one in Norway. Me and Jane did spend time in Tromso, but not enough to establish relationships with anybody. There wasn’t anything unusual about it besides being from Norway. Since it made it through Tony’s mail censors, I assumed it was okay. Well, as I’d woken up early, I was in the communal kitchen having breakfast. There were only three other people with me: Captain America, the Black Widow, and Pepper Potts. Pepper was there with a pile of paperwork and she suddenly passed an envelope to me. She told me it had gotten mixed in with her stuff. I really wish she hadn’t done that. When I didn’t open it immediately, all three of them started getting suspicious. The Captain started asking questions, asking me why I wouldn’t open something in front of friends. Pepper and the Widow said nothing, but I knew they didn’t like the fact I refused to open the mystery envelope. I got tired of their nonsense and went back to my room. Once I was inside, I enacted the privacy protocol for my room and opened the envelope. I’m glad I was in my room because I would’ve fainted in front of them._

_The letter was from some dude who claimed to work for some super-secret Sokovian organization. What stood out, though, was that he claimed he knew about who you were, who I was, and who we’re descended from. He even mentioned Grandad Dimitri. Well, the letter was basically a short history lesson about Sokovia and the monarchy. The worst part was that his bosses are APPARENTLY backing a return to monarchy. The guy claimed they have near-complete family trees on a lot of people and that ours has the strongest claim to the future throne. He said that I’m the Chosen One simply because they have no idea where you are. Me: the future queen of a dead country._

_As soon as my brain understood what he was saying, I knew I had to write to you. I know for a fact you’d be able to figure out if this guy’s legit. I had a letter typed and ready to go. All I needed was to find a good time to go the post office. Well, it was easier said than done. On the 12th, some idiot with HYDRA tried to kidnap Pepper, Jane Foster (my boss), and me. Hawkeye managed to foil it, but it scared everyone enough that all three of us have been under heavy surveillance. Now, I’ve been kidnapped before, but they’ve never put me under guard like this. I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone trailing me. I can tell you it’s not because they’re worried about someone nabbing me again._

_Everyone thinks I’m involved with the kidnapping. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone! Somehow, they’ve come to the conclusion that I know something. They think it’s very suspicious that I receive a mystery letter and then three of us get kidnapped about a week later. I tried to tell them I wasn’t, but they always demand I tell them about the letter and when I told them I couldn’t, everyone looked at me like I was Loki. I’m getting scared, Dad. All of the Avengers, even Thor of all people, have been asking questions about me. About who I know and if I’m really who I say I am. There’s no one on my side. Jane has been icing me out. She now relies more on Stark lab monkeys more than me. I catch her glaring at me when she thinks I’m not looking. Pepper hasn’t been vocal, but FRIDAY (she’s the AI in the Tower) told me that she and Tony have been running multiple background checks on me. To make matters really sucky, Steve contacted Coulson and Hill. Those two have been showing up more. They corner me when I’m alone and ask really uncomfortable questions. They’re trying to intimidate me into slipping up. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last._

_What’s worse, someone’s been snooping around my suite. Nothing looks out of place, but I’ve seen little things that tell me someone’s been there. (I.E.: previously undisturbed dust has been disturbed.) I don’t know who it is, but I know they’re looking for the letter. Well, they won’t find because I destroyed it. I make two scanned copies; one of which is going to you. Don’t worry about them intercepting this. I’m mailing this out of the Tower. I have a plan to make sure this is safe._

_Dad, if you get this, just know that I really need your help. I promised Mom I’d never tell anyone about our family and I’ve never broken that promise. If the Avengers or SHIELD find out, I’m doomed._

_Love,_  
Your Lil’ Electra  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
Darcy had no idea no idea what to expect when she mailed off her letter. Part of her prayed it would find its way into her father’s hands. Some of her feared it would be intercepted by SHIELD or even HYDRA agents working in the postal system. The rest of her firmly reminded the others that she just needed to calm down. She had enough to worry about already. If her father received the letters, he would respond in due time. She decided to listen to that part.

As September rolled in, Darcy found herself increasingly isolated in the Tower. No longer was she treated as the tagalong little sister. Jane, Thor, and the other Avengers now treated her as the pariah. No longer did they talk to her or seek out her company. If she entered a room, all talk quieted or ceased. She fought the urge to quake as she felt cold eyes pierce her. They watched her closely until she left. Attempts to be friendly were met with awkward silences or cool replies. 

In due time, there were hints that she was no longer even wanted. It was mostly small things. No longer was she told of dinner and movie nights. FRIDAY morosely told her of the meals hours after all the food was consumed. She became the only person in the Tower to not be invited to galas or private parties. Snooty SI employees crowed over the parties whenever she was within earshot. The biggest indicator, though, were the job brochures and flyers. She would find them slipped beneath her door or laid in areas she frequented. Darcy hid her hurt beneath a flippant façade. She knew it was making them angry that she did not seem to care about her situation. It was only when she was in her room that her tears flowed. A major confirmation of their low opinion came one Saturday morning. Coulson magically appeared while she was waiting for an elevator. He tersely informed her that the guards assigned to her were being reassigned to Pepper and Jane. She knew from his tone she was on her own. Her silence resulted hot eyes glaring chasms into her back as she fled into the elevator. Only FRIDAY saw her tears. The AI kindly told her of events that kept her out of the Tower for long hours

Even the miniscule bright spot was dimmed by their behavior. It seemed word of her treatment had reached the mysterious Sokovian plant. No other letters arrived for her. She wondered if the plant was holding them for future contact. What killed her brief relief was the fact it only deepened the suspicion against her. She learned from a sympathetic FRIDAY that Tony had ordered all mail addressed to her to be separated and sent to him, Steve, Pepper or Hill for analysis. Darcy dreaded the following days, knowing her secret would likely come out if a letter was intercepted. It never happened. No mail addressed to her was spotted.

Her isolation forced her to ponder her future. She decided to do this out of the Tower. Her growing spare time had her going on long sojourns through the city. Losing herself in New York’s bustling heart was easy. She just allowed her feet to carry her through the throngs. Her mind wandered along with them.

Before New Mexico, Darcy imagined she would get her 6 credits and be on her merry way. After New Mexico, she imagined SHIELD would shoo her away from Jane through coercion or bribery. What she got was a contract asking her to continue on with Jane until they decided what to do with her. This resulted in her being shipped off with Jane to Tromso shortly before Loki decided to be stupid. In London, Darcy believed she would hand Jane off to Ian once she got him trained. Post-London, she resigned herself to following Jane around. The bright spot was renegotiating her contract with SHIELD. In exchange for continuing with Jane and housing in the Tower, she was allowed to resume her coursework. The pomp of being surrounded by hot heroes blinded her to the reality of situation. The letter and her isolation brought that back.

Darcy supposed she COULD be honest. She supposed she could talk to one of them and explain the letter without telling them about its true contents. Yet she knew it would be for nothing now. Her earlier unwillingness to speak of the letter would work against her. She knew they would demand to see the original to read it for themselves. Her scan would mean nothing. So, what could she do? It was a question she pondered over as the days rolled on.

By late September, Darcy was done. No longer could she tolerate being the Tower outcast. It had reached the point where no one even acknowledged her. They ignored her presence at all times. Even Jane and Thor refused to acknowledge their old ties. What hurt especially was the fact they acted like she was nonexistent even around the newer crop of Avengers and associates. Everything made clear she needed to move on.

Part of her wanted to hold out just a little while longer. After all, there was still a slim chance her father would contact her. Emotion, though, won out. She began to downsize. Only her dearest possessions would go with her when she left. Choosing was difficult as many things in her room had great sentimental value. She judged every item carefully before deciding which would go and which would stay. Poor FRIDAY observed the proceedings with growing concern.

(FRIDAY was not the only one. Scott Lang and Hope van Dyne had observed the Avengers’ behavior toward Darcy with bewilderment and concern. Both contacted Hope’s father to see if he could learn anything about her. The Maximoff twins deeply disapproved of Darcy’s treatment. Both wanted to speak out, but their own tenuous position on the team stayed their tongues.)

With FRIDAY’s help, Darcy ferried books, knickknacks, DVDs, old clothing, and her beloved pots to various donation sites. What remained was packed into her old red backpack and her well-worn suitcase. It saddened her that the remains of her life had been reduced to so little. She only left enough clothing to keep up appearances and her trusty laptop. Her remaining task was to complete her notice. She wanted something prim to hand into Pepper. Her goal was to complete it quickly. It turned out to be a hard task. Writer’s block and tears forced her seek solace outside. Her walks brought her calm and a renewed calm. (Only FRIDAY knew that miniaturized Scott and Hope took turns watching her through her room’s vent. When she left for a walk, they departed to discuss matters with the Twins.)

Writer’s block was what sent her out the first of October. The afternoon was surprisingly balmy. Darcy was able to wear a light sweater and heavy skirt with little trouble. As usual, her feet carried her through the bustle while her mind wandered. In this case, Darcy mused over how to express her gratitude to the Avengers for allowing her to stay for so long. The wording in what she put down seemed too weak.

Lost was she in her musing that she did not notice the man striding through the crowd right for her. He was a young brunet with a trim beard and rimless sunglasses. His Yankees shirt and jeans did not raise flags with any passerby. Only his stride indicated to the more aware that he was a man with a purpose. Darcy did not notice him until he suddenly bumped into her.

“Hey!” She paused to glare at the man’s vanishing back.

“Sorry!” a voice hollered back.

Muttering darkly, Darcy made to continue on, pausing again when she realized her left hand was not empty. It now held a small white envelope. Darcy stared at her hand as a tendril of wonder filled her. A second bump and rude comment jolted her to action. Clutching the envelope tight, she strode through the crowd, scanning the streets, seeking a safe place to check it out. After 30 minutes, she spotted a flash of green. She nimbly weaved out of the crowd and went down the street. She soon found herself looking at a small garden in front of an old church. It was small space dominated by a fluffy evergreen. Beneath it was a small tiled bench. She made a beeline for it.

Once seated, she began studying the envelope. It was nothing special; just a generic rectangle of ivory found in all card sections. Every surface was blank. The flap was sealed tight. One thing did stand out. During her walk, she noticed it contained something hard. A quick swipe of her fingers revealed it was something the size of a credit card. As she patted the envelope, she realized there was something else inside. Curiosity burning, she quickly ripped open the flap and opened the envelope wide.

“What?” she muttered as she pulled out the two items inside.

The first was a small squared of folded yellow paper. The second was in fact a card. It was a clear plastic rectangle with a multicolor strip on one side and a rose insignia on the other. Brow furrowed, Darcy opened the paper. She kept it on her lap to avoid any potential snooping. She was glad she did for her eyes went wide as she read.

_Greetings, My Darling Daughter!_  
Please take this card and go to Lowenstein Bank. Ask for Godfrey. He’ll show you what you need to see.  
Love, Dad 

“Oh, thank Thor,” Darcy breathed, wiping her bleary eyes with her hand. 

She sprung up, hastily shoved the card and paper into the envelope, and began walking. Shock, delight, and bewilderment warred within her. Shock for the fact he had gotten her letter. Delight for the fact he got her letter AND answered. Bewilderment as her knowledge of the centuries-old bank was minimal. Founded in 1689, it was a European bank catering to the ultra-elite. It was also the bank her ancestors did business with. Its sole US location was in New York City. Armed with that knowledge, she began to stride back towards the bustling. She stopped dead when she realized one thing.

She had no idea where the bank was.


	3. Dearest Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.
> 
> Now that I'm on a good computer, I can explain things a bit better. What you're about to read is the longest of the three chapters. It was actually part of Ch. 2, but I decided to make it its own thing. This turned out to be a good thing as it became a monster.
> 
> Just know that I left you a clue as to which fandom Darcy's father is in. Also, your anger towards the Avengers will increase when you get to Pepper's note.

Three hours later, Darcy staggered through the ornate rotating doors of Lowenstein Bank. Upon seeing a plush leather seat, she made straight for it and plopped down with a sigh. Her feet and legs throbbed from the effort she had put in. Having left behind her money and phone, she was forced to wander around. The few people she asked for help were useless. She was close to giving up when a firm hand clasped her shoulder. Darcy, too tired to even yelp in surprise, just stiffened and turned. Surprise came anyway when she found it was a slim policeman with twinkling hazel eyes.

“Sorry for bothering you, miss,” the officer said, “but I heard you were looking for Lowenstein Bank.”

“Please tell me you know where it is?” Darcy half-whined.

Sure enough, the policeman knew where it was. He kindly escorted her four blocks from where she was to a plain gray building near a toy store. It was a slim thing of five stories with arched windows on all floors. The entrance was nothing more than a rotating doorway with stained glass panels.

“Just go through here,” said the officer, “there’s water if you’re thirsty.”

“Thank you so much,” Darcy breathed as she staggered through the door.

Only now as she was resting did Darcy realize something. It was odd for a police officer to know where the bank was. She made a mental note to ask her father how many police officers were in his employ. Shaking her head, she looked at her surroundings. 

She found herself sitting in what she guessed was a foyer of sorts. It was a rectangle surrounded on three sides by glass walls. The chair was one of three. Across from her was a heavy wooden table topped by a bored fern and piles of what she guessed were brochures. Next to it was a drink machine with cups stacked on one side. Darcy got up, went over, and read the selections. When she saw water, she grabbed a cup, placed it beneath the dispenser, and pressed the blue button. Water trickled into her cup, stopping only when she let go of the button. She gulped it down, enjoying the chill taste. 

Once satisfied, Darcy turned her attention to the walls. The shorter two were solid, but the longer side had a frosted door. She studied the design as she walked over. Like the card she received, it bore a rose symbol. She grasped the bronze handle, pulled it open, and walked through. 

The room she found herself in was the plainest lobby she had ever seen. Two walls and the floor were unadorned white tiles. The soft light came from something too high up for Darcy to see. The back wall was the only ornate thing. It bore a massive rose design in glittering gold. A heavy black desk was situated before it. A woman in red sat behind it, eyes on something in her hand. Darcy began walking toward her. Her steps, heavy and muffled, had the woman’s head coming up. Darcy found her a prim, pale thing. Her blonde locks were done up in a severe bun. Keen eyes studied Darcy, but Darcy felt nothing unkind. 

“Can I help you?” she asked politely once Darcy was before her.

“Um, hi,” Darcy said. She glanced at the back wall. “This is Lowenstein Bank, right?”

The woman’s brow went high. “It is. Can I help you?”

Darcy held out her envelope to her. “I was told to come here and ask for a Godfrey.”

The woman switched between eyeballing the envelope and Darcy. Just as Darcy was wondering if she had made some horrid mistake, the woman took the envelope. She carefully opened it, pulled out the card and the note. She read the note carefully. Her expression was guarded, but her widening eyes told Darcy she was intrigued. She lay the note down and then studied the card. Darcy watched her pull close a slim red tablet. She tapped the screen, lay it down on her desktop, tap it three more times, and lay the card down on the screen.

“Can you tell me your full name?” she asked suddenly.

“Darcy Anya Lewis.”

The woman tapped the screen again. “Do you have an account with us?”

“I have no idea,” said Darcy, injecting all the honesty she could into her voice. “I was just given this card today and told to come here.”

The woman looked up. Her eyes scanned Darcy’s face. With a nod to herself, she asked, “Do you have any family members who bank with us. I can double-check through them.”

Darcy paused. She debated giving her father’s name, but her current situation gave her an alternative.

“It could possibly be under two names. It’s either Malenkov or Zajczyk; first name Dimitri- with an i- Antony or Dmitri- no i- Anton.”

“Can you spell the last names?”

Darcy complied, watching the woman carefully input the information into her tablet. There was a brief pause as they waited for whatever they were waiting for. Darcy took the opportunity to study the back wall. What seemed like a solid surface was broken up by five doors. Their outlines were nearly invisible. She wondered if they were elevators or regular doors leading further in. 

A ping from below had her looking back at the tablet. The woman lifted up the card and handed to her. Darcy took it, watching her tap and scroll. She became worried when the woman’s relaxed posture slowly stiffened. Her head snapped up. She looked at Darcy, then to her tablet, back to a confused Darcy, and finally back at her tablet. A shaking finger tapped the screen three more times. She then pushed back her plush seat and stood. She looked at Darcy, expression respectful. Darcy wondered how such a tall woman could rock such high stilettos.

“Please follow me, your Ladyship.”

Darcy’s surprised squawk was covered by a low metallic groan. Glancing at the back wall, she saw the third door retreating inward. It revealed a brightly lit opening. The woman strode towards it. Darcy scrambled after her. Once she was over the threshold, the door slid back and closed with a huff. Darcy found herself and the woman standing at the end of a richly paneled hallway. The burgundy carpet bounced beneath her feet as she followed the woman down the hall. 

“Uh, where are you taking me?” Darcy asked.

“To one of conference rooms,” said the woman, “Godfrey will be waiting for you. He’ll explain things to you in more detail.”

Darcy nodded. “So, I take it I’m in your guys’ system?”

The woman chuckled. “Godfrey will explain your situation in better detail. Just know that you have a pretty penny waiting for you.”

“Okay,” Darcy replied weakly. Her father once mentioned that each of Sokovia’s dynasties made their wealth in different things. Her ancestors made their fortune in art and antiquities dealing. 

The walk down the hall was short. Both women came to a stop in front of paneled wall. There was no door visible, but the biometric scanner situated off-center told Darcy the door was hidden. She watched the woman walk up and lay her hand on the blue surface. A brief glow and eye-scan later, a series of lights started appearing. Darcy watched as they slid together to form the outline of a door.

The lights dimmed slowly as the door swung inward. The woman walked in, Darcy following closely. A quick glance revealed the door was part of a metal wall covered with paneling. She guessed it was a good foot thick.

The room the two entered was normal. The walls were lined with delicate watercolors. A stern grandfather clock stood watch in a corner. Looking up, Darcy beheld a strange ceiling. Its entirety was made of fluorescent light panels covered by multicolored stenciling. It created a near-neon portrait of the solar system.

“That’s cool,” Darcy remarked.

“Thank you. We had it installed last week.”

Darcy looked down and beheld the voice. A rust-colored table with four matching chairs was the only furniture in the room. Atop the table was a heavy-looking black briefcase. Standing beside a chair was a man in a slate-colored suit. He was a middle-aged blond with pale skin and a faint trace of beard. His blue eyes twinkled as he bowed slightly. Darcy noticed his floofy hair did not move an inch.

“Ms. Lewis, this is Godfrey Norton,” said the woman. “He’s our senior branch manager.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…” Godfrey trailed off as he extended his hand. He gave Darcy a puzzled look. “What should I call you? Highness? Ladyship? Excellency?”

“Just Darcy, please,” she said as she shook his hand. “I’m not sure about the title stuff right now.”

Godfrey smiled as he guided Darcy to a seat. As she sat, he glanced over at the woman. She nodded cordially and stepped out. Darcy glanced over as Godfrey took a seat, catching the door closing.

“No need to worry about her,” said Godfrey. “She’s a good employee, but the information I’m about to give you requires senior clearance.”

“And what information would that be?” asked Darcy, eyeing the briefcase.

Godfrey opened the briefcase. The lid popped up with a whoosh. He reached in, pulled out a large red envelope, and held it out to her. Darcy felt her heart begin to pound. She looked at him questioningly.

“The first item is something that’s been owed to you for a while now,” said Godfrey with a smile. His teeth glinted. “It’s from your father.”

Darcy snatched the envelope violently. She shoved hand inside and pulled out a folded sheet. The envelope dropped to the floor as she unfolded what turned out to be two heavy sheets of cream-colored paper. Her eyes immediately took in the words she had waited so long for. 

_September 25th_

_Dearest Darcy,_

_Hello, my darling. I apologize for the lateness of my response. My contact did receive it and pass it on as expected. Unfortunately, an idiot in my employ was slacking in his duties and did not hand it to me for several days. You might know him: Ian Boothby. I can assure you he’s still breathing, but he’s been banished to Siberia. (He says hello and offers his deepest apologies for being careless with your letter.) I must say, I wasn’t expecting what you sent me. Also, you must tell me how you managed to get the letter out without getting caught. If those Avenging baboons are treating you as horribly as you indicate, I’m surprised they didn’t try to stop you. Then again, this is entirely your business. They have no place to bother you for information that doesn’t belong to them._

_Anyway, I carefully read the copy you sent me. There are few things that surprise me anymore, but this definitely surprised me. I’ve done my due diligence and what I found will not please you. It certainly didn’t please me._

_The organization Josef Zuraw wrote of is real. The organization’s name translates to the Council for the Restoration of Free Sokovia. They’re actually not so secret. It turns out they operate under the name KJARTACORP. They publicly work as peace aids in various war-torn regions. Their public façade disguises their mission of promoting Sokovian interests. I can confirm there is a council in Venice, Italy only because I had three of my agents work separately to confirm its existence. Once I had enough information, I did what was necessary. I contacted my Venetian man and had him make contact with them. You can imagine how surprised they were when they realized who I was. I traveled to Venice and met with them from the 18th-21st of this month._

_Yes, honey, I actually met with them. First off, you will not believe the ass-kissing that ensued when I walked into their meeting hall. I would’ve found it funny had I not remembered your letter. Second, they sincerely regret causing you grief and have assured me no such mistake will happen again. Once they were cowed enough, we got down to business. I can confirm they are officially backing a return to the monarchy. Their reasoning ultimately boils down to two things: terror and stability._

_They feel that returning to the monarchy will allow Sokovia a sense of stability as reconstruction continues. People have little trust in the politicians now trying to fill the power vacuum. They’re trying to pass themselves off as champions of a free Sokovia. The terror comes from the fact nearly all of these politicians have ties to old dictatorships or are foreigners who’ve never been to Sokovia. Making matters worse is the fact these idiots have backing from figures in foreign governments and major corporations. This adds another layer of terror._

_Under dictatorship, Sokovia was isolationist. Everything it needed was made or grown in-country or gotten through the black market. Only the elites could get foreign goods. Reconstruction has allowed many governments and corporations to sink their money into the country. The problem is that they believe they’ll get a say in how the country is run. To put it simply, there’s maneuvering to carve up Sokovia. Groups and individuals are backing candidates they feel will look kindly on them. Some are even demanding Sokovians hold elections. The council is terrified that Sokovia will return to dictatorship any of these idiots get popular support. They want leaders who will stand up for Sokovia and they feel the monarchy is the best chance._

_BUT THERE’S MORE! The council told me of rumors that others have the same idea. If these rumors are true, the world may see the first civil war over a giant crater. There are whispers that scions from the old dynasties want to regain their old power. Three in particular stand out: the Kedzierski, Maksimov, and Walentowicz. The former were the only Old Royals who remained in Sokovia after Arnov took over. The middle became very ardent opponents of the dictators. The latter were the idiots who preceded our family and were overthrown for their stupidity. This brings me to the fun part._

_I asked them how and why they decided on Dimitri’s line as the strongest claimant. Their explanation was simple. As you know, Queen Tatiana, Kjartan’s wife, escaped with four children. Two were Duchess Celeste and Countess Maria. They were the daughters of King Kassian, Kjartan’s brother. Another was Duchess Olga, Kjartan’s third daughter. The final member was your grandad Dimitri. He was the only male member of the family to escape._

_(As Zuraw told you, there were 15 children between Kassian and Kjartan. The other 11 met with bad ends. 5 were executed outright. Two were imprisoned and died in their cells. One tried to lead a resistance, but was betrayed and killed. The true fates of Prince Nicholas, Duchess Tzofi, and Duchess Aleksandra remain unknown.)_

_The council operated under the 1675 Succession Laws. Kassian and Kjartan were one of these rare times when sibling succeeds sibling. The last time it happened peacefully in Sokovia was in the 1590s when Queen Tzofia died unexpectedly and her sister had to become queen. The Laws state that if siblings succeed one another and both have children, the preceding ruler’s children and their descendants are considered legitimate claimants to the throne. HOWEVER, a sub-section in the final Law states that if the monarchy is illegally deposed, the right to rule remains with the family of the last ruler. If the monarchy is restored, the rightful heir is a child OR direct descendant of the last ruler._

_Taking into account two wildly differing parts of the Law, the council delved into the lines of descent from Celeste, Olga, Maria, and Dimitri. Olga’s line was eliminated immediately as her three sons are prominent Canadian politicians. Celeste died without issue in 1962. That left Maria and Dimitri. Realizing they had possibly two valid lines, the council examined both families carefully. It turns out there is nothing wrong with Maria’s descendants save for one that has ties to your purple Avenger. Our line won out, if you will, by one simple fact. Dimitri was the last surviving child of the last legitimate king of Sokovia. Therefore, the right to rule belonged to our line. What does this mean for us?_

_I made clear to the council that you are too young and ill-prepared to be the head of a country still trying to get on its feet. I also made clear that I will not tolerate you being pushed into something so life-changing. To become a ruler is to know the people and place you oversee. I told them that if they persisted in wanting you as queen, I would assert my right as Dimitri’s son to be regent. As a result of my big mouth, I have named King-elect of Sokovia._

_That’s right, dearest. Your father is now the named head of Sokovia’s non-existent government. Even this isn’t without problems as some on the council pointed out ANOTHER part of the Succession Laws that state a royal in line for the throne is excluded if they have committed grievous criminal acts. Still, this didn’t stop them from falling in line with the rest when I was named King-elect._

_I want to be very clear. I did not accept their wish to be king. I told them it would not be fair to you if I made such a life-changing decision without your input. I made them swear upon Dimitri’s soul that they would do nothing until I met with you. You can be assured they will do nothing. I gently threatened them if they did. They will not act until we have spoken and I give them an answer; which brings me to the crux of my letter._

_In light of your letter, I returned to India to settle matters there. Once done, I began traveling. Know that we will be seeing each other soon. I have made arrangements with my NY associates to keep an eye on you. You won’t see them, but they’ll see you. Don’t worry about them. Their sole task is to keep watch over you and keep you safe if anything happens. I’ve also made arrangements concerning three safe houses. All will be available by the time you get this. All you have to do is pick one. Concerning funds, I have accessed our line’s account and have set up a separate account for you. The money is yours. If you have the card I sent you, use that to access your account. Godfrey is my man at the bank. He’ll explain how to get things going. Don’t worry about SHIELD or your superhero monkeys accessing your account. They’re masters of keeping unwanted idiots out of their data. (Just ask them about Dr. Doom’s failure.) I’ve given Godfrey some documents that will help you if anything happens._

_Finally, I want to say two things. One: I want you to keep that promise to your mother. This secret is your business. I know organizations like SHIELD all too well. They will try to make you into their puppet. They won’t care about you or your mother. All they’ll see you as is a pawn to serve their interests until you have nothing left to give. Then you’ll be discarded like common trash. Our family secret is too important to risk trusting to people who see trust as a disposable commodity._

_Two: we are going to have strong words about this kidnapping business. STRONG WORDS! Just know I’ve learned the name of the HYDRA loon and where they’re stashing him. He will be dealt with. My associate at that base has given me a prime day to come and have words with him._

_Stay well, darling._   
_Love always,_   
_Dad_

Godfrey watched Darcy’s face carefully as she read her father’s letter. His heart went to her as emotions paraded across her face. There was the delight and yearning of a child hearing from their wayward parent. Keen interest warred with shock. Amusement gave way to stunned expectation. He watched her lay the letter on the table as she slumped into her chair. She stared off, dazed. Godfrey waited patiently. He had read the letter once it had been sent to him. It was a lot to take in.

A small chuckle had him looking at her. She was rubbing her face wearily. Her hand dropped. She stared off for a moment before looking back at Godfrey.

“My dad’s coming,” she said quietly. A small smile appeared. “My dad’s coming to see me.” It seemed the truth of that promise was becoming clear. The smile grew wider. Her happiness was clear. “My dad’s coming to see me.”

Godfrey took this as his opening. “He is.” He pulled the suitcase to him “Before we get into that, I have to ask. Do you have any questions?”

Darcy leaned forward and looked at the letter. “Oh God, so many.” She looked at him. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

Godfrey nodded. “I understand completely.” He looked at the contents of the suitcase. “I think we’ll start with the funds.”

“Okay,” said Darcy, sitting up. Her expression was keen. 

“Before I begin,” said Godfrey. “I’m curious to know what you know about your family wealth.”

Darcy shrugged. “Just a bit. I know that all of the old dynasties made their money in different things. Mine made their money with art and antiquities dealing.”

“That is true,” said Godfrey. “Your ancestors, the Zajczyk, were able to rise above their station to become some of the wealthiest individuals in Sokovia. I believe it was Vladimir Zajczyk who started the family account with this bank. It enabled your ancestors develop a tidy nest egg.”

“But how do we still have any money?” asked Darcy. “Wouldn’t the dictators have taken everything?”

A flicker of excitement entered Godfrey’s eyes. “Oh, they wished they had.” His tone was conspiratorial and smug. “What no one knew was that your great-great-great grandfather had moved his family’s wealth into a new account. He sacrificed only a smidgeon of it for a dummy account. His son and grandsons maintained it for public appearance while protecting the real account. The dummy account was what Arnov took over after the coup. He and his successors never knew about the real one.”

Tendrils of pride bloomed in Darcy’s heart. It certainly explained why her grandfather came from relatively comfortable circumstances.

“The beauty part of Uri’s move,” continued Godfrey “was that he set up measures to allow his family to set up their own accounts off the main one. Your father did that for you. There’s a set amount, but the money is entirely yours to do with as you please.”

“My dad mentioned that, but how much do I have?” asked Darcy.

With a small smile, Godfrey reached toward the lid of the suitcase and gently lifted out what Darcy saw was a heavy black tablet. A tap brought the screen to life. He scrolled down, tapped, and then handed it to Darcy. She took it with some confusion. Setting it down, she looked at the screen. It took her a moment to realize the hodgepodge of lines and numbers were her account info. She scrolled down, seeking the number she wanted. When she reached the bottom, she looked at the black numbers.

And promptly felt her jaw drop.

She lifted her head. Godfrey’s smile grew impish as he watched her struggle to voice a coherent thought. When she did, it was a strained, “That’s a lot of zeroes!”

“It is,” he said cheerfully. “Your father felt it was prudent to give you a good amount.”

Darcy managed to find her voice. “Bu- but the only way we’d have that much is if-“

“- if the much of your line’s treasures are still in one piece,” finished Godfrey.

Darcy was grateful she was sitting. She knew she would likely be on the floor in a boneless pile of shock. 

Godfrey continued. “At the moment, you only have limited access to your funds. You can withdraw, but not deposit or transfer any money. In order to have full access, you need to complete certain questions and verify other important information. Would you like to do that now or later?”

Darcy looked at the tablet, pondering. “Later,” she said, setting the tablet aside. “What else did my dad send?”

Godfrey reached into the briefcase, pulled out three dark-colored booklets, and handed them to Darcy. As she took them, she noticed the covers were embossed with three different seals.

“These passports belong to you,” explained Godfrey as Darcy began flipping through each one. “One is for the U.S., the other for the UK, and, for some weird reason, Serbia. Only the U.S. one has your birth information. The other two are accurate with certain things, but your father shifted certain information around to avoid suspicion. Under the Serbian one, you’d be Daria Zajczyk; Anya Malenkov with the UK one. Your father advises using the Serbian one only if you need to disappear immediately.” Darcy just nodded as she set the trio atop the letter. “All three have been tagged by your father and the council. If you use one, they’ll know which and seek you out under that name. You can even create cover stories for the Serbian and UK identities.”

“Along with passports,” he continued, reaching into the briefcase, “your father left behind some documents.” He held up a manila folder. “All of these are personal documents. I won’t go over all of them as it would take too long, but know some are copies while other are originals. Your father even included a list of his secret deposits around the world if you need to access them. Each holds some store of cash, identities, and even weapons.”

Darcy nodded. Her father once mentioned them to her.

“Now we get to something you appear to need,” said Godfrey. He pulled out a three glossy brochures and handed them to Darcy. She took them and began looking at them carefully. “I understand that you’re in need of a safe house. Your father readied three for you. All of them are in different parts of the city. All you need to do is pick one and I can call the agents to prepare for your arrival.”

Darcy nodded absently as she looked at the brochures. Each safe house was different. One was a loft in some reconverted building. Another was a brownstone in an area still rebuilding from the Chitauri invasion. The third was a swanky penthouse suite in a hotel rumored to be a criminal hotbed. Each was fully equipped with all the amenities she could want. Her impulsive side eagerly demanded she pick one (preferably the penthouse). Yet her rational side…

“Is something wrong?” asked Godfrey, watching her frown deepen with some confusion.

Darcy sighed. She set the brochures down. She looked at Godfrey cautiously. “Did, ah, did my dad tell you why I needed the safe houses?”

It was Godfrey’s turn to be cautious. “He may- eh- have mentioned something. That there’ve been some problems with your current living situation.”

Darcy snorted. “Oh, is that an understatement.” She paused, sighed, and leaned back. “It’s not that I don’t want to pick one, believe me I do! It’s just that I can’t pick up and just go. Everyone already thinks I’m a bad guy and if I just leave, they’ll start looking for me. I need to end things with them. Make a clean break.”

“Are you sure it’s wise to stay where you’re having problems with others?” asked Godfrey.

“It’s not,” Darcy admitted. “But I have to. I need to end things with them. Besides,” she gestured at the letter, “my dad didn’t say I had to choose a safe house right away.”

“You’re free to choose when you’re ready. But I have to ask: are you absolutely sure staying with them is what you want to do?”

“I’m sure.”

Godfrey’s expression hinted he disapproved of this, but Darcy knew it was the right thing to do. She needed to close the Avengers chapter of her life. Giving her notice was her goodbye.

“All right,” said Godfrey. “In that case, I think it’s prudent we get to your funds.” He picked up the tablet, tapped the screen, and began tapping away. “As I said, you just to complete certain information and verify other information. It takes up to three days to get everything squared away, but I can fast-track you since you belong to one of our oldest client families. While you’re doing that, I’m going to let the agents know that you’re going back to the Tower, but to be ready.”

He handed her the tablet. Darcy took it and looked at the screen. Sure enough, a list of questions greeted her. She began tapping away, answering and confirming everything listed. In less than 15 minutes, she completed everything asked of her. The page that followed informed her it would take less than 5 business days to ensure everything was good. At the bottom, it asked if she wanted to withdraw any funds. Darcy hit YES and found herself looking at her personal account page. A highlighted section asked her how much she wanted to withdraw. She pondered briefly before picking a number she thought appropriate. After clicking CONFIRM, she handed the tablet back to Godfrey. Godfrey tucked his phone inside his suit and took the tablet. He began tapping, scrolling, and looking at the screen. Once satisfied, he turned the tablet off.

“I see you withdrew some money,” he said as he tucked the tablet back into the suitcase lid. “I’ll be able to get this to you-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Darcy.

At Godfrey’s puzzled look, she reluctantly explained the situation with her mail. The thunderous expression on his face sent a bolt of shame through her.

“Amazing,” he hissed, shaking his head. “I guarantee those idiots would howl like bitches if anyone dared interfere with their own stuff. No matter, though. The bank has ways of getting funds to individuals under surveillance. I’ll get your money to you with no problem.”

“You’re sure they won’t know?” Darcy could not help but ask.

Godfrey sent her firm look. “They won’t.”

Silence descended as he put the brochures and letter back into the briefcase. Darcy had a momentary heart attack when her brain reminded her of her card. Godfrey watched with some amusement as Darcy began looking for her card. A glimmer on the floor had her diving beneath the table to retrieve the card she had dropped in her zeal for her father’s letter. She emerged to find Godfrey smiling. She held up the card. Godfrey promptly plucked it out of her hand.

“It’s a good thing you found this,” he said as she stood. “I nearly forgot to tell you that I need this to get your account fully operational. Once that’s done, you’ll be able to use the card for anything.”

Darcy nodded. After a pause, she asked, “So, is that it? Did my dad leave anything else?”

“At the moment, yes. Once you’re more settled, we’ll be able to go over things more thoroughly. I’ll keep these items in the vault here for safety. And no, your father didn’t leave you anything else, but I do believe each safe house as something for you.”

The door to the room slowly swung in. The front-desk woman entered. At Godfrey’s gesture, Darcy began walking out, Godfrey following. The woman exited last, the door shutting once she was out. All three began walking down the hall.

“Are you able to get back on your own?” asked Godfrey.

The woman interjected as Darcy opened her mouth. “Sir, I took the liberty of calling a driver for her Highness as it is getting dark.”

Darcy stopped. “How late is it?”

Godfrey pulled out his phone and held it in front of her. Darcy looked at the time and groaned. She began walking faster. All three exited out of the lobby, charged through the foyer, and out into the street. Darcy groaned as she beheld the deep marmalade hue that signaled approaching darkness. Her ire was lessened by the sight at the curb. A sleek black town was parked before them. Another Amazon, this time a redhead, stood waiting beside an open back door. She wore a snug black jacket and skirt, dangerous heels, tinted aviator glasses, and red driving gloves. A polite nod was sent Darcy’s way.

“She’s been instructed to take you back to the Tower. Just tell her if you want to go anywhere else or if you want to take an alternate route,” said the front-desk woman. She held out an elegant hand. “I wish you luck, miss.”

Darcy shook the proffered hand. The woman smiled kindly before stepping back. 

Godfrey stepped up. He patted the briefcase. “Don’t worry about this. We’ll keep it safe. Just know that we’re at your disposal should you need us.” He extended his free. “I also wish you luck.”

Darcy shook his hand before he stepped back. With a nod to both, she walked to the open door and slid inside. The driver shut the door. She exchanged some words with the two before getting behind the wheel. The car came to life with a smooth purr. Darcy peeked out the window. She waved at the woman and Godfrey. The two waved back before stepping back inside.

“To the Tower, Excellency?” asked the driver.

Darcy leaned back. “To the Tower.”  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
It was dark by the time the driver pulled over. At Darcy’s request, she parked two blocks away from the Tower in the most isolated spot she could find. Darcy peeked out of the window. She saw they were behind a construction site. The sole crane stood sentry over a gaping hole.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to a safe house, your Ladyship?” the driver asked.

Darcy shook her head. “No. I need to go back and finish things.”

The driver sighed unhappily. “As you wish, Excellency.”

With that, Darcy exited the town car. She quickly circled around the block and made her way to the Tower. The cooler air was a welcome reminder of what was waiting for her. She knew her lengthy absence would likely be noticed by her former friends. Before today, she had always returned at an acceptable hour. Today she was coming back hours after she usually did. She knew they would likely chalk it up to some nefarious doings.

Crossing the street, she came under the Tower’s shadow. A stocky delivery man passed by her as she passed through the doors and onto the ground floor. Small herds of Tower employees were moving to and fro. Many entered the various shops, clutching drinks or food. Some were seated at the oases of seats. Darcy noticed some were pointing at her. She ignored them as she passed by through the security gates. The guard monitoring the gates nodded at her as she passed by him. He watched her make her way to a lonely elevator tucked into the corner. 

FRIDAY opened the door. Darcy hopped on. The door shut swiftly. Darcy clutched the brass handrail as the elevator began its trek upward. It came to a smooth stop a few minutes later. When the door opened, Darcy found herself looking out at the hallway of her floor. She looked up, offered FRIDAY a smile, and stepped off. The trek to her room was quiet. Only her footfalls were her company. FRIDAY opened her door as she neared it. Once Darcy was inside, the door shut quietly.

Darcy went to her kitchen and plopped down at the table. Sitting atop it was her laptop. She pulled it close and turned it on. Once it was set, she clicked open her notice. The jumble of words that greeted her was promptly deleted. She began writing, the words flowing out with an ease she had not had previously. Sentences of gratitude coalesced. Paragraphs addressed to each Avenger were rife with kind words. Finally, words to Pepper concerning her release were added. Darcy reviewed her notice carefully. Once satisfied, she went to her SI email account, added her notice as an attachment, and sent it off to Pepper. She pushed her chair away from the table. 

Darcy felt nervousness tighten its claws. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. There was no point in freaking out. Pepper would get her notice and reply in due time. All Darcy needed to do now was wait. Her stomach rumbled gently. Sighing, she opened her eyes and got up. Her nerves wanted something light. She rummaged around in her pantry, finding only a cup of Ramen.

Darcy kept her attention on her soup. She did not dare look at her computer. Her soup was her world. Once prepared, she went to her couch, plopped down, and ate. FRIDAY turned on the TV. A PIXAR movie began blaring. Darcy sent up another smile. She settled in. Alas, eating and the distraction of the movie could not keep away the expectation. With a sigh, she got up to toss her cup in the trash. As she was returning to her couch, she glanced at her door and froze. FRIDAY, knowing what was coming, immediately shut off the TV.

Darcy rubbed her hands together as she trudged to the door. Her eyes remained locked to the bottom of her door. She stopped. Taking a deep breath, she slowly knelt and picked up the white piece of paper that had been slipped beneath her door. Standing, she took another deep breath. Seeing a blank page, she flipped it over. A concise block of text greeted her. 

**I have received your notice and accept it. We must ask you to leave the Tower immediately. Refusal to do so will result in security escorting you out. Before you leave, turn in your ID to the security desk. Once out, you will no longer be able to reenter. You have been placed on SI’s blacklist.**  
Just know that you are hereby banned from the Tower. You are no longer welcome. Do not attempt to contact Dr. Foster or any of us ever again.  
Pepper Potts 

Logically, Darcy knew she should be angry. She knew she should be railing against their stubborn stupidity. She knew she should be marching up to them and ripping them apart. She also knew she should be breaking down into hysterics at the fact they were so willing to dispose of her. 

She did not, though.

Gulping down her rage and hurt, she calmly crumpled the note into the smallest ball her quivering hands were capable of. She then dropped the ball in front of the door. Turning heel, she marched to her room to retrieve her luggage. After ferrying them into her living room and depositing them on the floor, she began a final sweep of her quarters. She searched every nook and cranny, from bathroom to pantry to closets. It allowed her to both calm herself and seek out any stray item that escaped her attention from earlier. She was disappointed she found nothing. All that was left was her old burgundy jacket, her black knit cap, and her laptop. She retrieved her jacket from its hook and put on. Her cap was stuffed into a pocket. She walked back to her kitchen, grabbed her laptop, walked into the living room, knelt, and slid the computer in. Remembering her ID, she fished her wallet out of her backpack, flicked it open, and fished it out. The card was shoved into her pocket with more force than she was willing to admit. She closed her backpack, flung it over her shoulders, grabbed her carry-on’s handle and stood. All that was left to do was walk out the door. One thought, though, stopped her.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Lewis?” The AI’s voice was soft.

Darcy felt her throat tighten as she asked, “Can you do me two final favors?”

“Certainly, Ms. Lewis.”

“Can you tell me what everyone is doing right now?” Darcy cursed that sudden hiccup in her voice.

There was a short silence. “They are currently watching a movie in the penthouse.” 

Darcy nodded. “Okay.” Her voice trembled. “Can you tell me which elevator will get me down the quickest? Preferably something where I won’t be bothered.”

“I’ll guide you once you walk out.”

Darcy nodded. She walked to the door with steps surer than how she was feeling. She clasped the handle. A desire to look back at her empty dwelling passed through her. She summoned every ounce of willpower to keep her head still. There was no use in clinging to what was now lost. With a sigh, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. FRIDAY gently shut the door, not wishing to disturb her.

Darcy found the hallway lights dimming. The thin blue lights signaling nighttime switched on overhead. A pause to listen revealed only quiet.

“Please go left, Ms. Lewis.”

Darcy obeyed FRIDAY’s direction, quickly turning left and walking down the hall. Her footsteps and the drone of her carry-on’s wheels were her only company. A short downhill revealed a bank of elevators. Their silver doors glinted ominously in the dim light. The light above one to Darcy’s right suddenly turned green. Its door slid open, golden light pouring into the gloom. Darcy strode directly into it. FRIDAY dimmed the light to soft butter once she was inside. The door slid shut quietly. A moment later, Darcy felt the whoosh of going down. It was slower than usual, but she did not care. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her ID. 

“Ms. Lewis?”

“Yeah, Friday?” She was dimly aware of how hollow her voice was.

“I will miss you.” 

Darcy lifted her head, eyes floating over the soft light. The small smile that appeared only highlighted her sad eyes. “I’ll miss you too, FRIDAY. You’re a good friend.”

The elevator came to a gentle stop a few minutes later. Darcy lowered her head. The door slid open.

“Bye, FRIDAY.” 

“Goodbye, Ms. Lewis,” said the AI as she watched Darcy depart the elevator.

The ground floor was swathed in dancing shadows and waltzing lights. There were few people on the main floor. The shops that bracketed the entrances were shut. Through the windows, she glimpsed the outside world she was now going to join. She looked around and spotted the security desk. The wooden fortress was a bright island on the floor. It was a situated before the security gates that stood before the elevators that led to the upper floors of the Tower. Movement behind it had Darcy walking toward it. Her echoing footsteps had her wincing.

The guard behind the desk was one Darcy had seen rarely. She was a middle-aged redhead a smidge taller than Darcy. She was a no-nonsense woman perfectly suited to her job. At hearing someone approach, she stood, her pale head peeking over the desktop. Keen eyes took in Darcy. Darcy silently hoped she did not look too bad.

“Ms. Lewis,” said the guard primly, “how can I help you?”

Upon reaching the desk, Darcy held out her ID. “Pepper told me to hand this in.”

The guard promptly took the ID and sat back down. Darcy took the opportunity to think over where she would go. She wanted to be far from the Tower. Her dismissal likely meant her SI account was likely frozen. No funds meant she had to rely on what she had on her. Her measly $100 would not go far for lodging unless she found the most squalid flea-motel in the city.

“Ms. Lewis?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Darcy looked around and found the guard standing in front of her. The dancing shadows and lights made her otherworldly in her white blouse and black slacks. It was what she held in her hand that surprised Darcy. 

“Why am I being scanned,” she asked, gesturing at the device.

“Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark requested that this be done,” the guard replied. At Darcy’s groan, she shrugged. “It’ll be quick. Can you empty your pockets, please?”

Sighing, Darcy reached into two of her jacket pockets to empty them. Only finding lint, she moved to the pocket containing her hat. She pulled it out and made to put it on, but a pale hand appeared and dropped something into it. Startled, Darcy looked to the guard. The woman ignored her, opting to scan her with her baton. Darcy shoved aside her shock and assumed that pose all frequent flyers know too well. She clutched her hat tightly in one hand. The guard circled around and knelt, scanning every inch. It was only when she was back in front that she spoke.

“Godfrey dropped things off earlier,” she whispered. “You should’ve picked a safe house.”

“I needed to finish things here,” Darcy hissed. “Besides, how was I to know they were going to throw me out today?”

“Always good to think of every possibility,” said the guard. She idly scanned Darcy’s jacket. “Need anything else?”

“A place to crash would be nice,” said Darcy.

The guard turned heel and walked back around the desk. Darcy saw her sit back down, reach below, and pull out a business card. Darcy took the moment to pluck her money out of her. It was a tightly coiled wad that she quickly shoved into her pocket. The guard stood up and slid the card across the top to Darcy. Darcy took the card and cupped it in her hand.

“I must ask you to leave now, Ms. Lewis,” the guard said. She looked up and gave Darcy a firm look.

Darcy nodded. She did not say anything. Clasping her carry-on handle, she turned and began walking to the entrances. She pushed open the heavy front doors, stepping out onto the sidewalk. The sounds of the city greeted her in a cacophony of voices, car sounds, and other noises. Darcy stood and breathed deep. The air was chill; the sky a blotchy mess of grey sky and dark sky. The lights of the city glinted off the sides of the neighboring buildings.

The cold air reminded Darcy she needed to get moving. Before she did, she chanced a look at the card.

_Go to Everett Hotel and ask for Kate. She works for your father. Reservation will be ready by time you get there. Be safe._

Below was the address of the hotel. Darcy pondered the name. Vague recollections of a local establishment flitted through her mind. Fortunately, its location seemed to match the address. Shrugging, she shoved the card into her pocket. She grabbed her carry-on and began walking. She was grateful she had only a short distance to go. She did not bother looking back. 

Had she done so, she would have seen the unhappy Twins watching her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats on reaching the end!
> 
> I apologize for how long this was. Anyway, just know that working on this has given me ideas for the political side of this story. Where I'm still unsure is how involved the Avengers should be. Multiple questions are swirling.
> 
> Should I focus more on Darcy and keep the Avengers in the background or make them more involved? How should the Twins, Scott, and Hope be involved? Should I put in Bucky? You know, that sort of thing.


End file.
